


Radioactive Honey

by mybluehighways



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Good Boy, M/M, Massage, Praise Kink, blissed out, release, sensation, sir/boy, wound tight
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-01
Updated: 2016-11-01
Packaged: 2018-08-28 12:45:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,980
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8446306
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mybluehighways/pseuds/mybluehighways
Summary: Cas gives Dean a massage and Dean finally surrenders and lets his brain turn off.





	

He lay on his stomach, head resting on a pillow on the foot of the bed. Naked from the waist up with loose, black pajama pants (the only pair he owned) draped around his hips. His shoulders were in knots. Castiel could practically see them tensed beneath him as he knelt over the back of Dean’s thighs and rubbed the massage oil in his hands. Dean tensed up even further as Castiel’s hand touched his back. Castiel said nothing, spreading the oil smoothly up over Dean’s spine as he felt a breath ease through Dean’s body. Castiel dug his thumbs in on the next run up Dean’s spine, pushing firmly at the muscles and Dean sighed quietly. 

They had slept together before. Once, twice, a few times now, so Castiel’s hands on Dean’s body weren’t new and yet they felt new. Dean was often the initiator, pressing Cas back into the bed, spreading him open, watching him melt beneath him. He still had yet to really surrender to Castiel’s touch. I mean, sure, it felt good and he’d even come once, but Dean had never really been pampered or cared for; he’d never had someone touch him purely for his pleasure instead of his partner’s. As Castiel slowly kneaded Dean’s shoulders, Dean felt himself start to relax, just barely. Soft sighs escaping his lips every now and again as Castiel’s hands worked miracles down his tensed muscles. Dean knew they weren’t going to fuck. Not tonight, they’d agreed, in favor, instead, of spending the evening entwined in each other’s arms and talking about the future. 

“Now I need to know where you want more,” Castiel’s hands lifted off Dean’s back as he reached for more oil. 

“Huhwha?” Dean managed, squinting back at Castiel. Somehow his brain was already feeling a little fuzzy though he exaggerated it a bit more to avoid answering the question. 

“I need to know where you want more,” Castiel simply repeated the question evenly, not touching Dean save for the pressure on his thighs where Cas knelt over them. 

“I dunno, man, don’t make me think,” Dean huffed. 

Castiel might have said something more or might have simply waited, Dean wasn’t really paying attention. A million thoughts were poking at the insides of his brain. Ask for the shoulders, so tight...no, lower back...but your midback is always the most sore.. And still one was rising above them all, just say you’re fine, you’re good and thanks Cas that was what I needed. And kiss him. Kissing him will make him forget. You can’t, you mustn’t ask for more. It’s weak and selfish and you’ll sound like a moron. 

“Hmmm?” Cas prompted. 

“Here,” Dean picked up his arms and gestured at the middle of his back around the spine and then thumped back down, trying desperately to push the voices in his head that wailed that he was a selfish jerk aside enough to get back into the state of relaxation he’d been in before. 

Castiel resumed his ministrations, focusing on the points Dean had indicated, pressing his thumbs in hard, slow circles. He worked his way down Dean’s sides just a little way, not enough to tickle, and a burst of pleasure shot through Dean’s body at the touch, different than the massage. Dean stifled a moan by letting out a sigh and shifting his head the other way, the muscles in his sides tensing as Castiel did it again and Dean fought with every cell to not let him see how good that felt in a way that Dean couldn’t describe: not sexual but not purely in the realm of relaxation either, yet fantastic in a way that made Dean want to moan and slump into it desperately. Dean’s consciousness hovered between did-he-see-did-he-see-did-he-see and how-do-I-control-myself-if-he-touches-me-there-again for the next several minutes as Cas worked his way up and down his spine. Dean was so focused on keeping his muscles in line that he was caught off guard when Castiel’s hands gripped the skin at the tops of his shoulders near his neck and pushed then pulled it hard. A small gasp escaped Dean and then a quiet whimper welled up from the bottom of his ribcage, cascading through him, his eyes closing as Cas did it again and Dean’s reaction was the same. Dean’s head was spinning as Castiel’s hands glided up and down his back, not massaging, just touching, and then moved to the sensitive spot on his sides again at which point Dean’s moan was low, and guttural, and definitely not that quiet and he felt a buzz seep from the back of his skull towards the front of his eyes. 

Cas continued to trail his hands lightly up and down Dean’s skin and then they came to rest on his lower back. He left one hand on Dean as he filled the other with just a bit more oil and began slowly, carefully, to massage Dean’s lower back. Little whimpers were falling past Dean’s lips mostly unhindered now, punctuated every now and again by a groan as Castiel dug his thumbs in just right. Castiel’s thumbs skimmed under the waist of Dean’s pants once, twice, and then on the third time, Cas shimmied them down just a few inches so he could get better access to the tight muscles around Dean’s lower back. As Castiel began to knead the flesh where butt met back, the buzz in Dean’s head increased. He couldn’t have opened his eyes had you asked him to and he certainly didn’t have any coherent thoughts. He just felt. He just floated and felt and was nothing more than the feel of Castiel’s hands on his skin. His whole body was relaxed and open and humming in a way it had never been before with Cas or anyone else. It wasn’t sexual, though there was a very faint tingle in his groin, it was more like Castiel had carefully peeled off his outer layers of thick, protective shell and skin and was touching his very nerves. Warmth and sensation tingled all over his skin in a way he’d never experienced before. 

Castiel’s thumbs pressed lower, his palms needing into the flesh of Dean’s ass and Dean let out a full-on moan that he didn’t know had been lurking in the base of his throat. Castiel did it again and Dean’s hips twitched so slightly that blink and you’d have missed it. Slowly, Castiel continued to massage Dean’s ass, working his hands up and down Dean’s back and over his sides, then changing sensations, first stroking, then scratching, then he leaned down and placed a soft kiss over the dip in Dean’s spine. Dean’s hips pushed back perceptively this time, though not far as Castiel was still sitting on him, and his breath hitched. Castiel placed several more kisses up Dean’s spine slowly, deliberately until he reached his neck and grasped his hair, turning Dean’s head and kissing him. Their lips smothered one another; Dean’s mouth open and lax and gasping as he felt himself start to harden against the bed. 

Dean collapsed back on the bed as soon as Castiel released his head and the whole cycle began again. Castiel kissed down Dean’s back, nipping his teeth in here and there, massaging, touching, scratching, scraping, pressing, groping as Dean twitched beneath him, rocking his hips back into Castiel more forcefully the more Cas touched him. The buzz in Dean’s head crashed around his ears and eyes, drowning out 90% of his coherent thoughts. His body felt like it was radiating, glowing on a subatomic level. His skin felt loose and taught at the same time and the sensation of Castiel seemed to be everywhere and everywhere he touched seemed to sink even deeper into the persistent state of bliss. 

Castiel shifted backwards, off Dean’s legs and immediately Dean slid his knees under him slightly, rocking his hips up off the bed by a few inches and pressing back towards Cas. His erection tented the front of his pajama pants as Cas pressed up against Dean, inserting a thigh and knee in between Dean’s parted legs. Dean moaned loudly, pressing back into Cas’s leg with foggy, desperate movements and they rocked together like that, Castiel trailing his nails along Dean’s back and then down over his ass and along his inner thighs. Dean’s brain was awash with sensation, the aching fullness of his dick, the press of skin against skin that left him feeling as if he might explode from the sensation of it all. 

Castiel trailed fingers teasingly up and down Dean’s inner thighs several times before letting one hand stray up to brush over the underside of Dean’s dick. A shudder erupted through Dean followed by a desperate cry. The world narrowed and black edged his vision even behind closed eyelids if that was possible and he felt the whole world narrow to the point of Castiel’s hand on his dick and yet at the same time expand to the mind-numbing sensations of being so open, so relaxed, so sublimely blissed-out. The tension of the two experiences of sensation quickened Dean’s breath until his chest was heaving and he was pressing his hips back into an ever-retreating hand. 

Dean couldn’t tell how long it went on like this. He lost all sense of time or structure or conceptual reality. He just was. He just felt. He just existed in a state of pure bliss. It could have been seconds or minutes that Castiel trailed his fingers teasingly over the aching dick before Dean choked out a whispered, “Please…”

“What was that?”

“Please…” Dean’s voice broke again as he pushed his hips in a rocking motion back against Castiel’s thigh. 

“Please, what, Dean?” The words made sense but Dean had zero recognition of the tone. Castiel could have been playing with him or mocking him or challenging him or simply clarifying, Dean would never know. He’d lost any ability to do more than just be touched. 

“Touch me.” 

Thankfully, Castiel seemed to understand this answer and immediately strong thumbs hooked into the waistband of Dean’s pants again to slowly slide them down to his knees. His dick dribbled pre-release onto the sheets as it was exposed. Castiel wrapped a warm hand around it and slid slowly tip to base, coating Dean with his own precome. Dean may have howled. He wasn’t sure. He probably thrashed. He was certain he nearly slammed his hips down into the bed. Everything inside him lit up and pushed out and crashed down in ways he couldn’t understand. 

Castiel continued to stroke him as Dean rocked back into it, setting a pace for Cas to follow, sounds falling out of his lips with every gasp and breath. His head lolled back as his eyes remained closed and he felt the humming across his skin intensify. The orgasm that washed over him wasn’t intense or sharp, it was a wave (or two or three) of nothingness - a complete shutdown of anything in his body or mind that was negative or nagging or even neutral. It felt like every synapse in his brain and every cell in his body were simultaneously and individually dipped in radioactive honey, bathed in pure white pleasure, and wrapped in thick, soft blankets all at once. Dean knew he didn’t black out, but he had no knowledge of how he sounded or what he did. Only that moments later he opened his eyes to see Castiel’s blue ones staring into his own, wide and lust-blown and reverent. 

Dean gulped down air, and pressed his body into Cas’ waiting arms, whispering “thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you, Sir” over and over and over again. 

Castiel listened for a moment before speaking slowly and deliberately, his deep voice reverberating through his chest where Dean’s head lay, “Good boy, Dean. Good.”


End file.
